The Face of Change
by xypx
Summary: Sirius just died and Harry is devastated. Suddenly Harry is offered a once in a lifetime opportunity, that will not only change his own life but has the potential to change the course of Magical Britain's future. There will be het and slash. Later on. No Voldemort/Harry pairing planned though. There'll be a pretty dark, sometimes sadistic Harry. Also later on.
1. Chapter 1

Harry Potter does not belong to me. I'm just borrowing the characters for my own, and hopefully some readers, enjoyment. The story picks up after the events of book 5, at the beginning of book 6. If you have any questions feel free to leave a review. As should become clear soon enough: I don't have a beta. All mistakes are entirely my own.

Chapter 1

Harry Potter was lying on is bed in Privet Drive, unseeing eyes staring at the ceiling. He did not know how long he had been lying here. He did not even know how long he had been at Privet Drive. Days and nights came and went in a never ending circle. Ron and Hermione wrote him letters, how sorry they were not to be able to be there for him, that Dumbledore would for sure come to get him soon… But after the first week had passed, Harry was not even sure if he wanted the Order to come and bring him to their headquarters.

It was so much easier to just drown in his sorrows, anger and self-loathing than to be confronted with people who had hope in him. People who wanted him to fight. He was only 15, he did not want to have this burden on his shoulders. Nobody ever trained him, helped him prepare for his inevitable future. Nobody except Sirius, and Sirius was dead. He needed time, somewhere far away, to learn and prepare.

_Knock, knock._

His nerves were rattled and his concentration on an all time low, he expected danger to hide behind every corner.

_Knock, knock._

His damned scar was like a big fucking target floating over his head…

_Knock, knock._

The sound pulled him out of his musings and he slowly got up and made his way over to the window. Thankfully there were no bars anymore. As soon as he opened it a big brown owl swooped inside and dropped a small parcel in his lap. Who would send him a parcel? His birthday was still some two weeks away. He tried to rip it open, but the paper would not budge. Scowling he rummaged though the chaos on his desk in search for a scissor, but it could not cut through the paper. There was obviously something wrong with this thing. When he turned the parcel over, he found instruction in delicate writing.

_A drop of your blood will open it, pup._

Pup. Only one person ever used this endearing. Could it be? But Sirius… Sirius was dead. He saw him disappear into the veil with his own eyes. What kind of sick joke was this?

He threw the parcel in a corner of his room and went back to his bed. Yeah right. Like he would be so stupid as to just give his blood freely to a mysterious subject. Who knew, maybe it was from Voldemort or is Death Eaters… but they could not find him here, could they? That was what this whole blood ward business was about, was it not?

Over the next few ours he tried to fall back into the beautiful nothingness that had provided him with so much comfort over the last weeks, but his eyes allows flew back to the parcel, lying innocently on the floor.

When the first rays of sunshine announced the new day, Harry picked the parcel up again. He had not slept at all and felt tired and restless, but knew he would not be able to find peace until he opened the parcel. If indeed Sirius sent it to him? What could this mean? That Sirius was still alive? Maybe, maybe one did not die when they stepped through the veil, maybe only disappeared for some time? But then Sirius would be here personally, not just send some letter.

The anyway unavoidable decision made, Harry pricked his finger with a sharp knife and let a drop of blood fall on the parcel. It vibrated slightly, but nothing dangerous seemed to happen. Harry eyed the small thing distrustfully and hesitantly started to unravel it. He eyed the content curiously and slightly bemused.

Inside was a pair of black socks, a small glass vial with some red liquid that reminded Harry instantly of blood, a golden key and a letter with his name on it. He recognised Sirius writing immediately. Harry's heart started to race in his chest as he picked up the letter. Opposing emotions fought inside him. He wanted to rip the letter open immediately, devour its content, soak up the last words Sirius would ever direct at him… but if he opened this letter, if he read its content, if he admitted that these were the last of his godfather's words then Sirius would be really dead, no secret left to unravel, all words told.

He sat down on his bed and took a few deep breaths. The house was silent so soon in the morning. The Dursleys would be asleep for at least another two hours.

Under no circumstances would he allow to be disturbed during this last time he could spend with his godfather. This last moment where it nearly felt as if Sirius could be back, still communicating with him form wherever he was now.

Stiff fingers opened the envelope carefully, nearly ceremonial and took the thick parchment out.

_My dear Harry, sweet Pup,_

Tears followed instantly and Harry felt is heart ache. It was truly a letter from Sirius. His Sirius. The elegant handwriting, his nickname… his vision blurred and Harry had to wipe his tears away before he could continue reading.

_If you read this letter, than I died before I could tell you the content of this letter in person. _

_First and most important: I love you. Have since the first moment I saw you lying sleepily in your mothers' embrace, and will till I die and beyond._

Harry felt his heart sink and break at the same moment. Sirius was dead. Truly. Forever. Gone. Irrevocably. And he held the last words his godfather would ever address at him in his hands. Harry was not sure if he could continue reading. His eyes roamed over these lines again and again, trying to accept the finality of the words. Of the reality he had tried to hide away from since the disaster at the Ministry. But also the beauty of these words. He was loved.

_Secondly: Don't grieve too long and under no circumstances blame yourself. I don't know how I will die, but it will never be in any way your mistake. (In case you fired the killing curse knowingly and willingly at me, we'll talk again. I'm joking pup, I hope you know, it's so hard to tell in letters…)_

A brief smile flashed over Harry's lips, salty tears found their way into his mouth. Sirius. Brushing the tears aside with his sleeve, he continued to read.

_What I am telling you now is for your eyes and your eyes alone. Do under no circumstances share this information with anyone. Not even Ron and Hermione. I beg you. In dire times this could be your only way out and you never know what circumstances your friends could find themselves in. Knowledge can be ripped from ones brain without consent._

_I know you never wanted this life. To be The-Boy-Who-Lived. To be watched by the whole world. Targeted because your face and name is too well known. _

_While I know you probably will not be able to turn your back on this war that cost you so much in your life already, I want to give you an option you never had before, and after this, never will again. I can offer anonymity. A new face. A new name._

Harrys held is breath. What the hell was Sirius talking about?

_You don't have to decide this immediately, this door will be open for you at least until you reach your magical maturity somewhere between the ages of 18 and 22._

_Being Harry Potter gives you a lot of support, a strong position in this war, but makes you a target as well. A target for people far older, more experienced and better trained._

_Being a nobody would mean you have no support to begin with, but also no expectations and no enemies. You could train. Learn as much as possible before you get involved. You would not be specifically targeted._

_Haha don't look like I'm sprouting nonsense pup, just keep on reading. You will know what I'm talking about soon enough.__With this letter you should have received two small glass vials with blood, my blood and that of a friend._

Harry watched the small glass with new intensity. Human blood.

_These vials contain enough blood for an adoption ritual, which would make you my son in blood and magic. You would have a new name and look different. The ritual is told to be extremely painful, takes whole 24 hours and cannot, never ever be reversed._

_I know this decision will not come easy, as you will no longer have any physical resemblance to your birth parents. But I just wanted to give you as much protection as possibly, and I know Lily and James would agree with me on this. We all love you no matter your face. It's your personality, your soul that defines who you are, not the blood in you veins._

Was his godfather for real? Blood adoption? New identity? New face? Could he do this? Never again looking at his mothers' eyes in the mirror? Did he even want to consider this? With shaking hands Harry read on.

_For any blood adoption ritual you need blood from a female and a male, as the combination of their blood and magic will give a new body. If one would only use blood from one person, the ritual could end up terribly wrong. You either could look like the exact copy of the person donating the blood or only a part of your body responds… So please do not experiment with this, it would be terrible on the eye (and probably also a bit strange to get used to) if you for example ended up with two different legs, in looks, length or whatever. Theoretically you could perform the ritual with the blood of one of your birth parents as well, but…_

_As for the blood of the female you need, I have an old girl friend, we knew each around the time you would have been conceived and she owed me a life debt._

_I knew her well enough back in the day but had not seen her again until I went looking for her with this request. She is unmarried and childless, travelled the world since the last war. _

_She does not know, who I need her blood for. I only told her that my son had been living with his mother for the last years, but as she was now dying and I am a fugitive I would like her to adopt you through blood, so that my son would not end up as a ward of the ministry or the Malfoys as my closest blood relatives._

_As she had no choice but to agree anyway due to the life debt I did not elaborate any further. I told her we would contact her together if we ever went through with it, I could not tell her this plan would only come into effect if I died. So if you use this ritual contact her afterwards. Do not disclose you real identity! I never knew her political leanings too well. She comes from and old pureblood family, and while she does not sprout their values too open I doubt she holds much love for muggles. But she never took part it the first war._

_She left England during that time. The only reason I think it is save for you to do this, is because of the life debt. She cannot disclose any information about you or the circumstances under which you came to be her "son" without your permission. She cannot put you in danger knowingly. She has no access to the Black heritage (but you will). She cannot make decision for you against your will (school enrolment, marriage contracts and things of the like, urrrgh..)_

By now Harry was reading the letter without really processing its in content. What Sirus wrote there would have consequences of unimaginable magnitude. Let alone to have thought of and organised the whole thing… His godfather really must have gone mad of boredom to come up with a plan so utterly unbelievable and brilliant.

_So if you ever decide to meet this woman you tell her that as your real mother and I both died you decided to go through with the ritual I explained to you. She will understand that now, where the Voldemort is back and your only other option would have been the Mafloys, that you made this decision out of necessity. I do not think she will question you because of it. Just tell her something like you did not want them to give Voldemort access to the Black fortune and you did not want to be forced in his service, which could likely happen if you were their charge._

_Her name is Adriana Hortensa Aaric. She is the daughter of Hortensa Lavina Lestrange and Aurelian Castiel Aaric. Though she is a cousin to the Lestrange brothers she is nothing like them. Just as I am nothing like Bellatrix, Narcissa or the rest of my family. The Aaric family remained neutral in the war and Adriana went with this family custom._

_So pup, I think I explained the most important part of it. If you want to go through with it just take a hold of the socks and say "Snuffles" three times in a row. You will be brought to a Black family manor in Moscow. I renewed the wards and keyed you in them. At the moment you are the only one who can enter. They are old but powerful Black family blood wards. As soon as you are my heir you can change them as you see fit. Books on this in the library. Yes reading, I am sorry I can't spare you that. I try to put as much information into this letter as possible. And still there is so much I feel the need to tell you._

_Please wear the socks every day. I have spelled them with a cleaning charm and they will show no signs of wear. The portkey can be used as often as you need it, for about two years. Than you will need to refresh the spells. Again: books on this topic in the Black library._

_I love you, and whatever you will decide to do, I am proud of you._

_Please be save, remember to prank people and laugh yoru ass off from time to time, do what you want and never let anybody make your decisions for you. Not even Albus Dumbledore. While he is a great man, nobody is without fault._

_Love, Sirius_

_PS: I chose the name Aries Sirius Black for you. There are forged documents, birth certificate and everything under this name. What a little money and magic can do, it feels good to get on up on those stuck up purebloods with their own methods once in a while. You will find it in Moscow, with everything else you will need for the ritual. _

_PPS: The key is for the Black family fault. I left my will at Gringotts, which declares Harry James Potter my heir – in case I don't have my own children. (I wrote this will right after I was made you godfather and never felt the need to change it.) If you go there as Aries Black they will probably check your parentage, but together with the key this should be enough. _

_So pup. No matter what you decide to do with your life I love you and am proud of you._

Harry let himself fall back on his bad, the letter still tightly gripped in his hands. He had so much to think about but not before he slept for several hours. His tired brain could not even begin to process all the information and consequences this letter could bring.

For the next week, Harry spent all his time thinking. He thought while he was eating, while he was working in Petunias garden, his brain even seemed to continue thinking while he slept, as he never felt rested in the morning.

The more time passed, the more he wanted to go through with it.

Being Harry Potter not only meant that he was in constant danger, but that everybody around him, especially his friends, was as well. Cedric Diggory died only because he was with him. Sirius died because he came for him. Ron had been attacked by fucking brains at the Ministry. Everybody who knew him was in constant danger. And this blasted, thrice damned prophecy stated that in the end, it would be either him or Voldemort. Nobody could take this burden of him. Not even Dumbledore.

The thought made him scoff. Dumbledore. He really did not know what to make of his former mentor. The more he thought about him, the less he knew. Why had the headmaster not told him about the prophecy sooner? Or at least about the possibility that Voldemort would try to lure him to the Ministry? So many things could have gone different.

Why had Dumbledore never taught him how to fight? Or at least organised duelling lessons? Hell, the man knew what was waiting for him in the future. And love? Love just could not be his weapon. What should he do, give Voldemort a hug and hope he would dissolve?

And when thinking about Dumbledore even more things came back to the surface, things he had squeezed in the back of his mind for years. Why had Dumbledore never checked up on him if he was the important saviour of the Wizarding World? Why had he never offered to talk to the Dursleys? (Not that it would have changed anything, mind you, but still, the gesture would have meant so much to Harry.) Why didn't he fight for a trial for Sirius? Did he really dismiss his own people so easily?

Harry knew most of his thoughts on the headmaster were still spurred by his anger about Sirius death and the whole prophecy thing but that did not make them any less true.

In the end, it would come down to him and him alone. Dumbledore had not been able to help him in the past anyway. The philosophers stone, the basilisk, the dementors, Voldemort in the graveyard… Harry had always had to help himself out of these situations. Situation he only got into because he was Harry James Potter. At the end of the week, Harry knew he would go through with the ritual.

His friends would be save. Yes, Ron would be lonely in the beginning, but there were still Neville, Seamus and Dean. And better lonely for a while than dead. Harry would be saver as well, have more time to prepare, could explore things unnoticed… and even if he could not return to this old body, he would still have his memories and his scar. He could go back if he wanted to, just with a different face.

And maybe, maybe the Ministry would learn its lesson as well. Now they knew that Voldemort was back and were counting on him, a mere child, to get them out of this mess. The same people that had made his life a living hell only some weeks ago.

Maybe if they thought he was gone and there was nobody left to hide behind they would finally start to prepare and fight themselves, recognise their own responsibilities?

At the end of his third week of holidays Harry went downstairs, a small backpack with his most important belongings in tow. Predictably, he found all three Dursleys gathered around the TV, eyes glued on the small screen. An unpleasant aroma of sweat, smelly feet and suncream dominated the room.

"I'm going out for a walk."

Nobody acknowledged him.

"I don't know how long it will take."

His uncle gave a short grunt, all eyes still focused on the TV. He should not feel disappointed. Hell, he did not even like the Dursleys. Not one bit. The possibility that he would never see them again was high and for some reason this moment was important to him. This was not only a goodbye to the Dursleys, this was a goodbye to his whole life as he knew it. Well, things could only get better. At least that was what he hoped when he closed the front door one last time, walked down the street to the park where he was out of sight of any possible Order members or Mrs. Figg and activated his portkey.

()

Harry found himself standing in the large entry hall of what had to have been an impressive mansion once.

Even now, where everything was covered with a film of dusk, it emanated something regal and elegant. This was what the home of an "most honourable and ancient" family should look like, Harry thought while wandering through the rooms. He inspected the manor in search of the library.

There was a sitting room with beautiful blue furniture, a dining area, a big kitchen, something that could be a family room and finally the library. As promised a book with instructions was waiting for him sitting on a side table – long with a ritualistic dagger, a crystal bowl and a paint brush.

The ritual sounded terribly painful. The more painful the older one was. Great. At least it was not too difficult. Well, apart form the runes he had to cut in his own body without messing them up.

Next to the book was a magical camera. Harry picked it up smiling fondly. Sirius knew him well. He took a few pictures of his face and body, clothed and naked - although he would never admit the latter to anyone. He wanted to be able to compare his new and old body, and he wanted to have something that could make him remember. Remember that no matter what he looked like, he would always be the boy in these pictures. Born to Lily and James Potter, destined to kill a Dark Lord. This transformation was just a necessary evil, something that could help him along a great deal. Beside the book atop of another, closed one, was a handwritten note from Sirius.

_Keep some of your hair and blood from before the transformation. Could come in handy ;) If you are still underage when you perform the ritual you should probably know that the wards don't allow the Ministry to pick up on magic performed on the property. But please be safe. _

Curious Harry opened the second book. It contained various rituals that needed blood, hair, bones or other bodily fluids and parts.

Harry grimaced but read on never the less. If Sirius left the book here for him, then there was probably something in there he wanted Harry to see. His eyes easily found the only name he was familiar with. _Polyjuice Potion._

If he kept some of his hair… he could change back to his Harry Potter persona from time to time… if he kept enough he might even be able to live in his old body if Voldemort ever ceased to be a threat. Crouch was able to live as Moody for a year. On the other hand, long-term use of any potion was probably not advisable.

The name of another ritual was underlined. _Creation of a temporary golem._ Hastily Harry a flipped to the right page. If a golem was what he thought it was, than maybe he could hide his disappearance for some time. Send a golem to Hogwarts the same time he was there, with nobody the wiser! It would really be tremendously suspicious if Harry Potter disappeared at the same time as Aries Black surfaced.

Harry's enthusiasm was soon dampened. The golem could hold memories of the person and interact with the people it knew in a similar fashion but it could not hold any magical power of its own. But if he made one, he could at least conceal his disappearance until Hogwarts started. At the Dursleys he was not allowed to perform magic anyway and they interacted with him so little, they wouldn't notice if he behaved a little strange. The golem would exist for exactly 30 days and then disintegrate to dusk. Smiling, Harry hoped the Dursleys would be near his golem when this came to pass. The look on their faces would for sure be priceless.

Although maybe they would be a bit too happy after the initial shock… He read the instruction and groaned in frustration.

The first step in preparation for the ritual was to write loads of complicated runes on the floor. Why hadn't anybody informed them that understanding those signs had more use than being able to translate ancient historical tomes? Now it made much more sense that most children from old wizarding families attended that class.

Harry thumbed through the book - nearly every ritual made use of runes. Suddenly he felt very stupid. He had been living in the wizarding world for five years and obviously was unaware of a whole branch of magic, and very usefool magic by the looks of it.

Was there more he should know but didn't? Harry viewed the large library with new interest.

After searching the room for a while he found pieces of white chalk on a shelf. Next to various candles, bowls, glass vials and other objects, some which he couldn't identify. He took a large bowl and a knife before he went outside to get the other ingredients. A door with ornate glass windows led out to a large, wild garden. A high hedge guarded the land from view. Harry decided to take a closer look after the ritual. If he wanted to return his golem to the Durselys before they realized he was missing he had to hurry.

Satisfied he returned inside and dropped a handful of soil and a piece of wood into the bowl and made his way to the kitchen for a glass of water.

He studied the runes and retraced them with the chalk onto the floor. His circle was far from symmetrical, but that was – at least for this ritual – not important. Under the first line of runes he drew a second. Those runes recreated his clothes, glasses and everything else he wore on his body.

With the lighter he nicked from Dudley at the beginning of the holidays, Harry lighted the candles and continued on to burn the wood. When only ash was left he poured the water into the bowl and watched in fascination as the runes started to glow in faintly. He added some of his hair and blood while chanting the spells written in the book. Though he didn't understand the words he could basically feel and taste their power.

Never before had he experienced anything like this. While he read the never-ending spell the contents of the bowl rose in the air and slowly took shape, when the last word was spoken and Harry looked up from his book he was faced with his own emerald eyes. Quickly he stretched out his hands, pressed them against his doppelgängers temples and concentrated on his memories. His early life with the Dursleys, Hogwars, his friends and their adventures… he stopped abruptly the night he knew Sirius letter would arrive. The golem did not need to know this.

After some time he felt a soft prickling in his fingertips and when it stopped he knew he was finished. Exhausted Harry dropped to the floor. The ritual had taken a lot out of him. Fascinated he watched his counterpart. He should probably test his creation and give him some instructions before he left it in Surrey.

"What is your name?"

"Harry James Potter."

"Where do you live?"

"At number four, Privet Drive with my aunt, uncle and cousin. They don't like me."

Harry felt goose bumps rise on his skin, this was just to creepy, even for him.

"I am you maker and I command you to behave the way your memories show you. You are not to disclose you status as golem to anybody. You are not to mention me, this place or this conversation to anybody. You are not to be seen by anybody when you disintegrate in 30 days from now."

Having retold the standard command written down in the book Harry gave the golem some money – just in case – grabbed his arm and activated the portkey once more. They returned to the park and, in the guise of the darkness, snuck back to the Dursleys. Harry opened the front door, ushered the golem inside and left immediately. There was another ritual waiting for him.

Before he turned in for the night, Harry cut off most of his hair and filled to vials with his own blood. Sirius was right. The ritual he just performed already proved to be immensely helpful. He could only imagine what else he could find in the vast library. A bit lightheaded but nevertheless satisfied Harry slept on the dusty couch for the night and returned to the library first thing in the morning.

After studying and drawing the runes several times, Harry gathered all the courage he could muster and started the ritual. He cut his hand and let the blood flow into a small crystal bowl. Than he took the brush and started to transfer the ritualistic circle shown in the book and all its runes to the old wooden floor. It was big enough for him to lie inside. He checked every rune at least five times. He did not even dare to imagine what could happen to him if even one thing went wrong.

At last, he left the book just outside the circle and took a place inside himself. The athame in hand he started to cut the first rune right above his heart … and cried out in pain.

What fucking sadist had invented this ritual? And who would do this to a small child?

He had to keep going. After finishing the first rune he suddenly felt an intense increase of preassure in the room, simultaneously his wound went numb and stopped bleeding.

The other four runes, one on each inner side of his wrists, one on each foot right before his toes, were much easier. The magic increased with every rune and the pain felt distant, like there was a wall of cotton between the pain and his brain.

When the last rune was drawn he put the knife back next to the book and took the blood vials. He had to smear blood of both vials on each of his runes. Fascinated he watched as the blood did not stay on the runes but seemed to be absorbed into his body like it had never been there. At last he drank the remnants. Immediately all the pain returned. His whole body was on fire.

Remembering that nothing could be inside the circle with him, he flung the glass vials out of the circle. When they shattered on the ground he was already too far gone in his pain to even hear the sound.

The next twenty-four hours were pure agony. Harry dropped in and out of consciousness, every bone in his body seemed to break, move, rearrange, his skin itched so much he wanted to rip it off his body more than once. But he could not move on his own account. Convulsion shook his body, made his back arch from the floor; his magic ran wild, destroying his body at same time as it started repairing it. And in the middle of all this wonderful magic and unbearable pain, a new body was formed, a new face given, magic enriched and changed through two new sources.

* * *

><p>By now you should have a pretty good idea what direction this story is going to take. The review box loves to be used. Flame away, dear readers.<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Thank you for the lovely reviews. Harry Potter still doesn't belong to me. As my summary states this will have a dark and sometimes even sadistic Harry. So while I try not to make him change too quickly Harry will undergo a major personality shift over the course of this story. Be forewarned. Without further ado I present:

Chapter 2

Harry blinked. Everything around him was too bright and somehow blurry. Still sleepy he felt around the floor in search of his glasses but couldn't find them. Frustrated he tried to rub his eyes, only to find his glasses sitting were they usually would. Bemused he took them off and instantly everything around him was sharp. With his vision the memories of his last days returned.

Oh god. Oh god, oh god, oh god. He had really done it. What would he look like? Harry touched his hair. It felt completely different; still really short but softer. Hesitantly Harry got up and went to the entrance hall were he knew was a mirror.

Walking in this new body was decidedly weird. He had problems measuring the size of his steps and his arms swung around limply.

When Harry looked at the mirror a stranger blinked back. He gasped in shock. The stranger gasped as well. Was this- could this- a thousand thoughts whirled through his mind; satisfaction that everything went right, desperation that he could never take this back, longing as he looked at his face that reminded him so much of his godfather, confusion as he tried to grasp the fact that this was for real…

He definitely looked a lot like Sirius. Black, soft hair, probably wavy if he hadn't cut it so short before the ritual, high cheek bones, a straight, patrician nose, his skin tone was lighter and he was a few inches taller than before. The biggest difference though were his eyes. The warm green was replaced by icy blue with tiny grey speckles around the pupils. Sirius had had grey eyes, so the colour was probably his "mother's".

Harry still looked underfed, but now that he was not living with the Dursleys anymore he planned to change that quickly enough. Malnourishment would connect him to Harry Potter, and he had to distance himself from his old self as thoroughly as possible if he didn't want to get caught immediately.

To complete his transformation Harry used the last spell Sirius had underlined for him. It was called "blood glamour". It was an obscure old spell and one of the strongest glamours. It had to be sealed with human blood. The glamour could only be removed with blood of the same person and the correct counter spell.

The rest of the day Harry spent trying to learn to move in his new body. Everything felt just wrong. His legs were too long, his eyes too sharp and his balance and coordination were totally off. By the time his movements were controlled enough that he could run without tripping over his own legs, Harry was so tired that he fell asleep as soon as his head touched the sofa.

The next morning Harry was awoken up early by his grumbling stomach. He wasn't surprised though. The last time he had eaten was when he had still lived at the Dursleys', so about three days ago.

After rummaging through his suitcase he deeply regretted never having bought plain black robes without the school crest. He could hardly prance around Diagon Alley wearing robes with the Gryffindor crest, and all his muggle trousers were so much too short that even he did not feel comfortable in them - and Harry really didn't think he had high standards when it came to clothing. Sighing Harry got dressed in the longest trousers he could find and an old black sweater.

The next problem were his shoes. Pissed he threw his now too small shoes through the room.

"Damn it." He cursed. "A little heads up would have been nice, Sirius."

Grumbling he went to pick them up again and forced his feet inside. After getting his money and wand, Harry activated the portkey once again. The next moment he arrived at the now familiar spot in the park. He took a bus to London and soon entered the Leaky Cauldron. He looked around shyly, expecting somebody to recognise him any minute but all he got were a view side glances, probably due to the muggle clothes.

When he realized that nobody was whispering his name, nobody was pointing at him, nobody was trying to get near or as far away as possible from him a wide grin spread across his face. He was a nobody. A face under thousands of others. Nobody knew him, nobody expected anything from him. He was just another teenager, just Aries Sirius Black.

()

His first goal led him to Madam Malkins. He didn't want to run around all day in trousers that hardly reached his ancles. He entered the shop and nobody came running to him, uttering his name in deference. Fame seemed to have upsides as well. Dutifully Harry waited until the customers in front of him had been served. When the shop clerk turned to him and took in his appearance she wrinkled her nose.

"Can I help you?", her voice was still friendly enough, but she obviously did not like what she saw.

Harry had to supress a grin. Were he still looking like Harry James Potter this whole encounter would have gone vastly different. He enjoyed the normalcy immensely.

"Yes thank you. I need a new wardrobe. Some everyday robes as well as trousers, shirts and shoes."

"Well we certainly agree on that." she muttered under her breath, before asking. "Can you pay for it?"

Harry was a little taken aback by her directness but had to admit that he didn't look like he had much money. After he reassured her that he would be able to pay (though he'd have to visit Gringotts first) the shop assistant got to work.

20 minutes later Harry left the shop looking like an average teenage wizard. The long robes hid his old clothes and the new shoes thankfully fit. The money he'd had with him had only been enough for one robe and the shoes, so Harry left with the promise to come back later to pick up and pay for the rest.

"I am here because of Sirius Black's will and the Black family vault." Harry dropped his golden key on the counter. The goblin eyed him suspiciously and bit on the key several times.

"And you would be?"

"Aries Sirius Black. Son of the deceased Sirius Orion Black. Last head of the Black family."

Saying it out loud left a stale taste in his mouth. He felt as if he had just denounced his real parents.

"You would not mind if we confirm this, would you?" The goblin pierced him with his stare and obviously dared him to go back on his word.

"Ahm… no of course. What do you need?"

"Oh, a drop of your blood would suffice."

The creature disappeared only to return with a piece of light blue paper in its hand.

"You know the penalty for wrongfully claiming to be the heir of an old family, do you?"

Stubbornly Harry extended his finger. A sharp knife pricked his fingertip and a drop of his blood fell onto the paper. It disappeared immediately and thin lines, written in the colour of – and probably with – his blood spread slowly. His name was in the centre of the paper and a thin line linked it to the one of Sirius Orion Black. One word was written along the line. _Pater._

Bemused – and slightly panicked that something went wrong in his ritual after all - Harry looked up.

"Why is my mothers name not showing?"

The goblin, who had been staring surprised, now rearranged his face into the usual unfriendly scowl. "Well of course her name does not show. This paper only shows your relations to the Black family. It is made especially for this use, with a special ritual and the consent of the family head. To test out ones parentage is a whole different process. One you definitely will not find in a bank. Now come."

Harry followed the goblin pretending not to hear its rumblings about "stupid wizards". For the second time this week Harry felt like he ought to have known something he obviously didn't. Had people just been too awed by the Harry Potter persona to point out his lack in knowledge? Or was he just too sheltered?

Thinking about it, Harry realized that he really spent all his time in the Wizarding World at Hogwarts or with other people who knew about his upbringing and did not expect him to know anything about wizarding customs. Frowning, Harry wondered if it was similar for the muggleborns or if he had just been exceptionally ignorant.

The goblin lead him into the office of one of his colleagues.

"Mr. Black for you. His parentage was proven. I'll leave you to it."

Leaving the blue paper on the desk his guide left the room closing the door behind him. The goblin behind the desk seemed to be older than the other one and eyed the paper and him equally perplexed. When he caught Harry staring he quickly got up and introduced himself. "Mr. Black. My name is Rortnuk, I am responsible for the Black family vault. Please take a seat."

"Thank you Rortnuk." Harry took a seat and stopped talking. He had no idea what else to say. He had never before been alone with a goblin. Or had to sort out his bank affairs.

"I take it you are here to claim your inheritance?"

Not waiting for an answer the goblin snipped his long fingers and thick parchment appeared out of thin air.

"As the will states, you, as the only son of the last Head of the House of Black, are the sole heir. Your status overrules the one of Harry James Potter, named as your father's heir in case he died childless. As the sole heir you will have access to the family vault once you turn seventeen. For the time until then, a trust vault will be set up, as is tradition. You also own several properties, one house in London, one in Germany and one in Moscow. As the last living heir of the main Black line you will have access to all properties. Information concerning the properties, wards and so forth should be in your family vault but is accessible before your maturity. All trust vaults always hold the same amount of money in the beginning. You will have access to the exact same amount as you would have had, had you gained access earlier.

Of course this does not mean that you should spend your money thoughtlessly. Your father named several benefiters in his will. The money will be taken from the main vault. You can take a look at it if you please."

Harry took the offered will and read it quickly. Basically the goblin had told him everything important. Sirius left money to the Tonks family and Lupin.

"Thank you, now I would just like to get some money before I leave."

"You have your key? Then please follow me."

()

Half an hour later Harry was sitting in the Leaky Cauldron eating lunch. He still could not believe that nobody took special notice of him, but he enjoyed the peace immensely. The rest of the day he spent wandering through Diagon Alley. Before, he had never had the chance to just stroll around and visit the different shops. He always had to hurry, was always surrounded by people watching him.

When he passed Olivanders he suddenly realized that he probably needed a new wand as well. His holy and phoenix feather was really obvious. But would he ever find a new wand? One that served him as well as his old one? Even the thought of abandoning it made his heart clench.

Harry felt the risk of buying his wand at Olivanders was too high. The man was not exactly known for being discreet and he really did not need people to start asking questions.

Hesitantly Harry turned around and walked in the direction of Knockturn Alley. Maybe there was a wand shop as well. But should he really?

As Harry Potter he would never have dared to enter that street without his invisibility cloak or another protection but now, now he could just walk in and nobody would take special notice, would they?

With newfound enthusiasm Harry entered the Alley. The change in atmosphere was instant. The dark walls seemed to swallow the daylight; every shop had its own sinister air. Most shoppers had their hoods drawn up to obscure their faces. The further he went, the creepier his surroundings got. An old witch sat on the floor next to five cats, singing to herself (or maybe the cats).

Harry did not dare ask anybody for directions. Just when he was ready to turn around and leave this eerie place in hurried steps he saw a simple _"Wands"_ written above a small door.

He could have sworn the word had not been there the second before. Bracing himself he entered the shop before he could change his mind. A bell rang and the door fell shut behind him. There was nobody behind the desk, but he heard rustling steps hurrying in his direction. The shop was as dark as expected and extraordinarily small. The wands had to be stored somewhere in the back.

"Can I help you?"

Harry whirled around quickly. An old man stood to his left. His white hair was greasier than even Snape's and his eyes looked in different directions.

"I- I would like to buy a wand."

The man eyed him dubiously.

"Who sent you here, boy?"

"Nobody, I just saw your sign. Don't you sell wands, sir?"

"You saw the sign?"

"Um, yes, the one saying "wands" right above the door…"

Harry began to question the man's sanity, but suddenly his whole demeanour changed and he even shot Harry a crooked smile.

"Well, come on then lad. Your wand arm?"

"Right hand, sir." Harry was bewildered by the sudden change in attitude. He honestly just wanted to leave the shop, even without a wand.

The man brought a huge pile of wands from the back and Harry started to test them. Obviously finding a wand quickly was no option for him, no matter what identity.

Finally, when he took what felt like the fiftieth wand he felt a connection. His whole body felt warm and energy thrummed through his arm, golden sparkles shot out of the wand.

"That one, definitely."

The old man sighed relieved. "Tricky customer, boy, that's for sure. That's one of Gregorovitch's. 12 1/2 inches, yew, heartstring of a dragon, a very vicious one too, if my memory serves right. Had to be subdued by a group of wizards after it extinguished a whole muggle town somewhere in Bulgaria. At least that's what I've heard. Unyielding." The man smiled nastily and took the offered money.

"Ah, and this wand of course has no Ministry trace. While it is not exactly forbidden to own an unregistered wand I would not recommend spreading it around. And I hope it goes without saying that you never mention where you bought that wand. Correct?"

Uneasy Harry nodded and left the shop and Knockturn Alley behind as fast as he could. Interesting as it was, this street was definitely no place he would visit regularly. Harry picked up his clothes, bought enough food for the next few days and returned home.

()

The two weeks until the beginning of August Harry spent absorbed in various books of the Black library. He kept his distance from the countless dark arts tomes, but read up on magical history, wizarding customs and even some rituals. He was honestly astonished how at much he didn't know.

He had had no idea that wizards didn't celebrate Christmas in the same fashion muggles did. But considering he had not heard about the Christian church once in the wizarding world it seemed painfully obvious. Apparently wizards celebrated something called Yuletide on the evening of winter solstice, which took place on either December 21st or 22nd. Halloween was called Samhain and wizards used to honor the dead with certain rituals. Again Harry wondered why nobody ever told him or the other muggle-raised wizards about this.

He was embarrassed about how little he actually knew about the world he considered himself part of. Harry also found some books on occlumency that helped his progress in the art greatly. Although, according to his new documents, Aries Black birthday was on August 3rd Harry celebrated on July 31st. He treated himself to lunch and ice cream on Diagon Alley and spent his evening trying out a new ritual.

This one was said to connect the wizard with nature. Harry really wanted to try it, to feel a tree, hear earth… it sounded unbelievable. When Harry read that he would need animal blood for the ritual he nearly decided against it. That was until he found a small flask with owl blood on the library shelf.

Harry waited until the moon had fully risen before he started to draw the correct runes on the small stone platform outside. In the middle he put a small bowl that contained the owl blood and fresh resin from a tree on grounds. After lighting the candles Harry sat down inside the circle and burned the resin and owl blood. When he finished his chant he felt all his senses expand.

It was like he could feel every living being around him, he felt the ants, earthworms, birds, rabbits, bugs and so much more he could not identify, he even felt the trees, every single leave, he could taste the air and hear every movement around him. It was amazing. The world was amazing, wonderful, utterly brilliant.

Harry felt drunk and sober at the same time, could not feel his own body but so much more instead. It was like he was not limited to his body's boundaries. During the ritual Harry was not Harry but everything, he was the air, the earth, he was the water beneath, he was the small maggot that crawled beneath the tree and he was happy, just utterly happy. When the candles burned down and the ritual ended Harry could not tell how much time had passed, but he went to bed feeling like he had given himself the best birthday present possible.

()

On August 1st Harry wrote a letter to Adriana Aaric, his new adoptive mother. It was fairly short, he informed her that he'd gone through with the ritual and asked if she would like to meet. It was the first time he signed anything with his new name.

During the second week he had bought himself a new owl with feathers that were a beautiful combination of light and dark brown. He named it Felix. He had sent Hedwig back to his golem, just in case it would need to write letters, and Hedwig was too well known as Harry Potters owl. He still did not know what to do about her. She had been his first friend and he could not give her away for the world, but Aries Black just could not be seen using this particular owl.

Felix returned the same day with Adriana's reply. Apparently she was in London at the moment and invited him for a meeting tomorrow, 12 o'clock at the Silver Fox in Diagon Alley.

The Silver Fox turned out to be an upper class restaurant and Harry felt underdressed even though he wore his new and therefor best clothes. He asked the waiter for Ms. Aaric and was led to a private room in the back.

The woman inside was probably somewhere between 30 and 40, she was tall and slender, her skin was as pale as his and her eyes were definitely the origin of his new eye colour. She was dressed elegantly in obviously expensive clothes. She got up after he entered, dismissed the waiter and stared at him while he did the same to her.

When he went forth to greet her by air-kissing the back of her hand – a custom he had read up upon the last few days – she stopped him and kissed his cheeks instead. Then she smiled.

"Non of these formalities, it's not everyday a women meets her teenage son after all."

Relieved he returned her smile. "It's nice to meet you, Miss Aaric. Aries Black."

"Yes, yes of course. I insist you call me Adriana in private. In public mother would probably be best."

Harry could only stare at her in surprise, while Adriana raised her eyebrows.

"I hope you do know that with the adoption ritual a real bond was formed between us. We are mother and son by magic and blood, and I take this responsibility seriously. I can only hope that over time we will also come to feel about each other as family. Come sit down. I already ordered for both of us."

Flabbergasted Harry sat down. Since he had started to read up on the wizarding culture, he had realized that the magical community took many things really serious. Magical adoptions, apparently even those one was forced into, were part of this.

Adriana ignored his shocked expression and continued to talk. "Well, you obviously have inherited some of my family traits, or, our family now, more precisely. I don't know who your mother was. Sirius never told me neither her name nor her blood status and also forbade me from asking you about it, but it does not matter now anyway. As far as I am concerned you are my and Sirius' son and a pureblood. As I was informed our official story is that we spent the last years traveling and you were home schooled. I left the country when I was pregnant with you – which fits my time line exceptionally well – and never informed Sirius about my pregnancy as I thought it too dangerous for the Black family to find out that their traitorous son had fathered a child or for my family that I had a bastard. After the war Sirius was imprisoned for his crimes and I naturally did not inform him either. Is this acceptable?"

Harry could only stare at her wide eyed and nod.

"You lived with your mother and were home schooled so far, am I correct?"

Again, Harry only nodded.

"Do you wish to continue this way or do you want to attend a magical school?"

It took some time for Harry to realize that he had been asked a question. "Um, I ,I thought about attending Hogwarts… I do not want to be a burden for you."

At that, she smiled briefly and took his hand in hers. "I think you do not really understand what I said before. I know it must be hard for you, having lost your mother and father so recently, and I would never try to take you mother's place, but we are family now. The ritual you performed, that's not just some fancy spell work with a little blood, this ritual bonded us forever. Your children will inherit my family's traits, they will inherit my family's magic. They will appear on my family tree and will be treated as such by all relatives. As will you. Due to Sirius wishes nobody, and I mean really nobody besides the two of us knows that you are adopted. For the world you are Adriana Aaric's son."

Harry tried to process the information. He had known this was serious, known this was forever, but until just now the information had obviously never really sunk in.

Before he could even think about what to say she continued: "Do you have any plans for August?"

Harry denied, still deep in thought.

"Fabulous. I want to arrange a tutor for you for this month. I don't know how you were raised, but before I officially introduce you as my son I want to make sure you know how I expect my son to behave. Of course I can't tell you how to present yourself when you are on your own, but when you are with me I expect that you abide to certain social rules. I have things to take care of in August, but maybe we could get to know each other during your winter holidays?"

Harry just nodded again. His brain seemed to have shut down on information overload a long time ago. After lunch, Adriana told him his first duty as her son was to get appropriate clothing. Harry tried to protest – after all he had just spent a considerable amount of money on a new wardrobe – but he was ignored and dragged down Diagon Alley into a shop he had never noticed before.

The assistant lead them into a room in the back of the shop and Adriana ordered his new wardrobe. A whole hour later an extremely frustrated Harry and a delighted Adriana left the tailor. Harry tried to pay but Adriana gave him a stern look that obviously was a reminder to what they had discussed before. To make up for it at least in a symbolic way Harry invited her to some ice cream.

"Where do you live at the moment? I hope not at the Black estate in London? That place is so grim."

Embarrassed Harry explained that he felt the same way and was therefor living in Moscow at the moment. He conveniently forgot to mention that it was also because Grimmauld Place was the headquarters of the Order of Phoenix. After hearing that, Adriana insisted that he moved into her London flat for the rest of the holidays.

"I won't even be there. I will be out of the country until December. It would also make things easier for your tutor. You can move between your family estates freely but he would have to apply for an international portkey or at least the permission to apparate into the country every day. Really I do insist."

When she finished talking Harry again could do nothing but nod. Her determined nature just overwhelmed him.

Before he returned to Moscow she showed him her apartment and his assigned room, keyed him into the wards to allow him to apparate inside and explained that she expected him on August fourth at the latest.

"Your tutoring will start that day. I will owl you with the details tomorrow. Oh and of course I will also have to write Headmaster Dumbledore concerning your wish to attend his school. We will see each other for your winter holidays at the latest. I unfortunately have another appointment this evening. Our meeting was after all a rather sudden arrangement. Nevertheless I have to say I am glad we met Aries. I hope I haven't overtaxed you?" And with two kisses on his cheeks and a quick wink she was gone, leaving Harry utterly dumbfounded in her apartment.

He returned to the apartment the next evening. Leaving the Moscow residence behind was not too hard. The manor itself was fantastic, but as he lacked a houseelf and was not too fond of cleaning himself, not much had changed during his two week stay there.

The only thing he would really miss was the library, but he had brought some books with him and could return anytime. Harry smiled thinly; if Hermione could see him now, spending all his time reading... He quickly stopped that line of thought. He could not befriend the same people again immediately, Ron and especially Hermione would figure him out too quickly. He wondered briefly whom of the Gryffindors that left. Neville, Seamus, Dean and the girls. He could not see himself getting close with anyone but Neville, and Neville knew him too well to allow him to get close.

He quickly pushed these negatives thoughts aside. He had already sacrificed too much to let this get in the way. He would train and get better at magic, he would gain Dumbledore's trust, become a member of the Order and kill Voldemort who, being as fixed on Harry Potter as he was, would for sure see no threat in the stranger and therefor give him an opportunity to strike if Harry was only patient enough.

After emptying his trunk Harry stored it in his huge wardrobe and inspected the apartment again – this time without the talkative Adriana accompanying him every step of the way. It really was beautiful. Light and with huge windows, located in muggle London but close to Diagon Alley.

Apparently it was not uncommon that the upper floors in sky scrapers were reserved for the magical community. The muggles were told that companies owned them, and nobody asked questions. In this particular building the three top floors belonged to the magical community. Each floor had its own apparation point that allowed wizards to enter without 'having to bother with the muggle world', as Adriana put it. The furniture was held in white, cream or other light colours. Fresh flowers decorated several surfaces.

Adriana's houseelf would stop by every other day to clean and bring food. Harry had tried to tell her that this was not necessary, but she just reprimanded him and told him that, as the son of two prestigious and rich pureblood lines, it did not befit his standing to take care of such menial tasks.

Harry suddenly understood Draco Malfoy's attitude way better. Being raised like that couldn't result in anything but arrogance. Harry decided to appreciate that for once in his life he did not have to do the chores and concentrate on his studies instead.

In addition to the time he spent being tutored on wizarding culture he also had to prepare for his OWLs again.

When Harry had realized that the OWLs he had taken as Harry James Potter could, for obvious reasons, not be transferred to his knew identity he wanted to throw a temper tantrum that could rival a three year old. Deciding to go with the more grown up version instead he spent that evening drinking Firewhiskey he had found at the Moscow Mansion.

The only upside was that Harry expected to do significantly better the second time around. He even had the benefit of Adriana's limited but immensely useful private potion equipment. He realized that without Snape breathing down his neck he was actually able to brew some fairly decent potions. He did not delude himself into thinking he could ever be as good as Hermione, but it should be enough for the O.W.L.s, maybe even for an outstanding which was necessary if he wanted to become an Auror.

Harry's tutor turned out to be a stern old man who seemed to look down on everything Harry did. Apparently Harry ate wrong, walked wrong, talked wrong and probably even breathed wrong. That the way he thought was not appreciated was all to clear. Even though Harry in all honesty couldn't stand the man he decided to take the opportunity for what it was – a chance to learn everything about the wizarding world that he had been left out on before.

Some time during the first week they realized that they shared at least one interest – runes. Since the amazing experience on his birthday Harry was obsessed with learning what the symbols that made these things possible actually meant. It did not take him long to persuade the man to tutor him in this subject as well, and they shared some of the most interesting conversations Harry had ever had.

When he found out that his birthday ritual actually classified as Dark Magic he was shocked. For him Dark Magic were the Unforgivables, destructive curses that left only death and desperation in their wake. The next time Harry returned to Moscow he took some books on Dark Magic with him. He obviously had no clue what classified a spell or ritual as dark and the thought of performing Dark Magic without even realising it left him feeling rather uneasy.

()

At the end of his first week in London, Adriana informed him that they were to meet Dumbledore on August 14th. Two nights prior Harry was a nervous wreck and unable to sleep without sleeping draught.

Dumbledore was his first big test. The first person who knew Harry Potter and would also get to know Aries Black. He did not really know what to expect. Officially Sirius died as a criminal and Death Eater on the run, thus Dumbledore could hardly mention that he knew Sirius well enough to wonder where this son suddenly came from. But still… Harry was extremely anxious about this meeting.

Adriana picked him up at the apartment and apparated both of them to Hogsmeade, from where they walked up to the castle. Filch was waiting for them at the gate and led them up to Dumbledore's office. Harry tried his best to pretend he had never seen any of this before and followed last. Filch muttered the keyword and left. Nervously Harry followed his "mother".

The door opened silently and they entered to find Dumbledore standing behind his desk smiling brightly. Embarrassed Harry thought of the last time he left this study and the destruction he had wrought. _Presence, concentrate on the fucking presence. _

He smiled back at Dumbledore. Obviously being told about 20 times each day not to wear his feelings on his face had not been totally in vain. Neither Dumbledore nor Adriana seemed to realize how uncomfortable Harry felt. Dumbledore eyed him curiously, but Harry attributed this to his stark resemblance to Sirius.

"Ah welcome, it is a pleasure to meet you. Ms. Aaric, Mr. Black, please take a seat."

"Thank you headmaster Dumbledore." Adriana replied pleasantly.

Dumbledore sat down himself and waited for them before he continued to talk.

"I have to say it is rather unconventional for a student to start his schooling here this late, but as long as you fulfill our conditions Hogwarts will be delighted to welcome you. I understand you will take you OWLs at the Ministry on the 16th and 17th?"

Harry pulled himself together forcefully and replied smiling equally broad.

"Yes, they will inform me about my results on the 18th. How am I to proceed afterwards?" Harry hated to use the formal tone his tutor tried to drill into him, but if he wanted to cut all ties to Harry Potter appearing as different as possible was the best option. And Harry Potter would not be caught dead talking like that.

Dumbledore blinked at him for a moment, probably trying to compare him to the late Sirius Black before he answered.

"Yes, yes. The quickest option would probably be if you allowed the Ministry to send us your results immediately. You can leave a list of your preferred subjects today if you like. Then we will send you a letter with the classes you qualified for. Some of our Professors are especially demanding. Our potions master only allows students with outstandings to attend his N.E.W.T. class."

Harry wanted to grimace when Dumbledore mentioned the greasy bat but caught himself and just continued to smile. "Of course headmaster. Your suggestion sounds reasonable. I really am looking forward to attending Hogwarts."

From the corner of his eye Harry saw that Adriana tried to suppress a smile. She seemed to be amused with the way he talked, the two occasions they had met Harry had been everything but formal. Dumbledore looked thoughtful.

"Excuse my bluntness, but are you related to the British House of Black?" Harry smiled. He had known Dumbledore would be too curious to ignore his obvious resemblance. Harry did not have to fake the sadness in his voice when he answered the professor.

"Yes I am. My father was Sirius Black. I never had the chance to get to know him." '_Well enough.'_ He added in the privacy of his head. Somewhere during his answer he had averted his eyes from Dumbledore and when he looked back the headmaster seemed to be at least two shades paler.

"Sirius Black?" his voice was nothing but a small whisper and he drank Harry's – no Aries' – appearance in eagerly. "I never knew he had a son…"

"Neither did he." Obviously Adriana decided that she should guide the conversation from here forth and Harry was thankful. He was not eager to test his lying skills in the midst of his emotional turmoil. Dumbledore looked at the woman expectantly and after sighting deeply she continued.

"When I got pregnant during the war I deemed it too dangerous for our child if certain people knew of his existence and left the country. When Sirius was sent to Azkaban after the war I did not see the point in informing him. Aries actually wanted to attend Hogwarts earlier several times, but I was averse to the idea from the beginning and after Sirius broke out of Azkaban especially. It would not have been possible to keep his identity a secret at a school were the Blacks are so well known. And the idea of Sirius finding out about and looking for him after a decade in Azkaban only cemented my decision to continue Aries schooling at home.

Now though there is no real reason for me to oppose his wish to attend Hogwarts any longer. Other than my desire to keep him close, of course." During the last sentence she smiled fondly at Aries and he could only smile back and silently applaud her acting abilities. In the back of his head though he made a point to remember this skill his "mother" obviously excelled in.

Dumbledore in the meanwhile looked deeply troubled. Harry could only imagine what had to go through his head. The headmaster knew Sirius had been innocent and probably imagined how much joy a son would have brought into Sirius' life. What came next though, surprised Harry. Dumbledore arranged his face back into a friendly smile.

"Your concerns are of course understandable. I take it you will now inherit the Black fortune?" Harry saw how Adriana's face froze. She obviously did not understand in what way Aries' inheritance concerned Albus Dumbledore.

Harry on the other hand understood only too well. If Aries realized that Grimmauld Place was used by Dumbledore and his Order, Dumbledore would have to ask him for permission or move. Trying to put the headmaster at ease without being too obvious Harry contemplated his next words carefully.

He smiled brightly. "Yes of course. I even inherited some houses, I think. But that is probably inconsequential for the time being. My mother would never allow me to move out before I turn seventeen." Dumbledore nodded pleasantly and his smile reached his eyes once again. Harry's reassurance obviously worked.

"Ah well well, living on once own will come soon enough, my boy. Could you write down the classes you would like to attend this year?"

Harry decided to attend all classes he would have as Potter with the addition of Ancient Runes. His intense work during the last few weeks probably could not make up for three years of classes, but Harry was determined to pass his OWLs, no matter how. At the moment he spent every free minute going trough old Ancient Rune exams trying to get a grasp on the material.

In all honesty compared to the conversations he entertained with his tutor from time to time, the school material seemed pretty basic, but Harry obviously lacked the routine and had a fairly limited knowledge of different runes. He would need a damn grand portion of luck to pass those OWLs. Aside from being interesting, taking Runes would also distance him even further from Harry Potter. Everybody knew that Harry was not the studious type. Nobody would even contemplate the idea of him being able to catch up on three years of Ancient Runes in one summer.

* * *

><p>I do know that in canon the trace is not on the wand but on the person. I changed it. If you want an explanation for CoS: Let's say known homes of muggleborns or muggle raised wizards get an extra protection thingy, to alert the Ministry when somebody is doing magic there. So that's why Dobby's magic registered. Voilà.<p>

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	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Thanks for the nice reviews, made my day! So the next update is here. A warning for all you lovely readers: There is a sex scene in there (het for now, not yet slash). The first sex scene I ever wrote, so if you read it, please tell me what you think of it. (Even if it's terrible, just tell me. I can take it. Really. Will only cry myself to sleep once or twice over it.)

Chapter 3

Three days later at 5 pm one Aries Sirius Black left the small office in the Ministry where he had just finished his last test. His brain felt numb, completely scrambled. How could he have forgotten how demanding these tests were? He couldn't even bring himself to try and review his answers once more. At the moment all he cared about was to leave this building and all the schoolwork behind for the rest of the holidays.

The only other boy who had taken his OWLs today sank down on the chair next to his. His name was Eugen something, he lived in a magical community somewhere near the sea and was extremely outgoing. "Finished your OWLs today as well?" Eugen asked grinning broadly.

"Yeah, finally."

"Interested celebrating this milestone? I've heard the Hogwarts students throw a huge party after taking their OWLs, would not be fair for us poor home schooled blokes to miss out on all the fun."

The mischievous twinkle in his eyes awoke a similar sentiment in Aries and they arranged to meet at the Leaky Cauldron at 9 pm.

"Wear something that's acceptable for muggles!" Was the last instruction Eugen shouted while disappearing between the busy shoppers on the alley.

When Harry entered the Leaky Cauldron at 9 pm, wearing a pair of plain black trousers from his trip to Madam Malkins and one of his few old T-Shirts that actually fit, Eugen was already waiting for him. The other boy dragged Harry into a quiet corner and took a good look at him before swishing his wand over a blank parchment while murmuring a spell unknown to Harry.

The parchment folded in on itself until it was no bigger than a regular muggle debit card. He grinned satisfied and gave it to Harry.

"Tonight, dear sir, your are Aries Brown and 18 years of age."

"You just forged a muggle ID?! How?" And how come he again had no knowledge of this?!

Only after Eugen promised to send him the spell with instructions per owl, did Harry allow him to guide them into muggle London.

"You sure know your way around here." Better than him actually, and he theoretically grew up in this world.

"Yeah, my cousin lives in this area, he actually showed me the club we are going tonight," answered Eugen.

Harry could not help but smile. A club, he had never before been to one, his experiences in this area were limited to Dudley's (probably mostly made up) stories and TV-shows. With the forged IDs getting in was no problem and soon Harry found himself in an entirely new world.

Even though it was hardly 10 pm the club was full, sweaty bodies moved in tune with the music, stroboscopic lights made him feel dizzy. He allowed Eugen to order their drinks, besides beer he hardly knew what muggle clubs offered. The other boy ordered different shots, but when he should have paid Harry watched wide-eyed as the boy discretely waved his wand under the table while muttering under his breath. The barkeeper only smiled at him and moved on.

"What the fuck was that? How can you perform magic here? You are not seventeen are you?" For the second time tonight Harry was completely surprised.

Eugen smirked. "My wand has no trace…"

That bewildered Harry even more.

"What do you mean you wand? The trace is on the person, is it not?"

To that, Eugen only rolled his eyes. "Honestly, do you think the old families would allow the ministry to put some kind of tracking spell on their children? They only spread this rumour to keep all the mudbloods from buying illegal wands and wreaking havoc in their world. You are a Black, I supposed you knew that…?"

Harry only shrugged grinned widely and gestured to their drinks. He knew he should reprimand the other boy for using that word, but at the moment the gratification this new revelation brought him prevailed. The trace was on the wand. His new wand had no trace. He could do magic wherever and whenever he pleased. That was definitely a reason to celebrate.

They downed their drinks and soon lost themselves in the dancing masses. Spurred by the alcohol Harry soon found himself dancing with some pretty girl. After Eugen dragged him to the bar for a second turn, Harry felt pretty drunk and just so happy. Around him everybody was dancing carefree and for once Harry could be part of them, the worry-free masses.

_No, not Harry, _he reprimanded himself, _Aries. Aries can be carefree, because nobody his after his life. Because Aries is not famous, not fucking Harry Potter. Aries, Aries, Aries._

The lights and faces seemed to melt into each other, people were dancing, moving, sweating, singing… Aries caught sight of Eugen once more, who was snogging some girl looking way too pleased. Harry didn't care. Tonight he was Aries Brown. And Aries Brown was free and had no worries.

He realised the pretty girl from before was again dancing close to him, sneaking a smile at him every once in a while. Without a thought he pulled her closer, and she immediately started dancing with him, her back against his stomach, her bum against his… He pulled her even closer and slowly started to kiss her neck, she responded eagerly by grinding even harder against him. Growing more and more aroused he turned her around quickly, pressing his lips on hers. She opened her mouth and allowed his tongue inside.

This was nothing like he ever felt before when kissing somebody. It was not innocent like kissing Cho Chang, this was hot and sweaty, urgent and needy. He guided them out of the dancing mass and soon pressed her against some wall, their drunken kisses getting even more intense, their hands exploring the other's body desperately.

Harry groaned. He'd never before wanted to wank so badly. Her hands wandered down and touched him through his trousers. He moaned in her ear, massaging her breasts.

"Follow me." She took his hand and led him out of the club. They nearly tripped a few times or stopped to snog, pressed against some wall. His head felt so light and he could not stop grinning. She led him inside some house nearby, up the stairs and into a small flat. They stumbled through another door and fell onto a bed. Kissing and groping they undressed each other. He took off her shirt and pressed open-mouthed kisses on her soft breasts while she tried to undo his trousers. When she finally pulled off his boxers and slowly started to pump is cock he hurriedly took care of her jeans. Writhing against each other Harrys only thought was to get closer, inside, fuck her and find release. She grabbed a condom from her nightstand and slowly rolled it down his cock, than, without any further ado she guided him down. A wave of pleasure welcomed him. She was so tight and warm. Harry grunted. God. Amazing. Slowly he pulled in and out, he was so aroused at the moment, he feared he would come any second. But he wanted to enjoy this feeling as long as possible. Suddenly she closed her legs around his hips and pressed him down. Both gasped out loud.

"Faster, faster…", her voice was only a hoarse whisper while she stared at him with lust filled eyes from beneath. Harry complied readily pulled out only to drive back in immediately.

"Oh Merlin," he moaned, his breath going heavy and uneven by now. He kissed her roughly, biting her lower lip before moving on to her neck, biting and sucking while she bucked up beneath him, deepening his thrusts. After slamming into her especially hard he could not hold on any longer. His stomach muscles tightened and a wave of pleasure came down on him. He moaned loudly as collapsed onto her body, still trembling slightly. Vaguely he registered that she took care of the condom. By the time she returned, Harry was already fast asleep.

()

Harry squinted lazily. Too much light. Way too much light. Who'd opened the fucking curtains? Or did he forget to close them last night? Last night – the club, dancing, the girl… Instantly he sat up, wide awake, and looked around. This was definitely not his room. And his fucking head fucking hurt. Slowly the memories of last night came back and Harry felt heat creep up his cheeks. He had just gone home with some girl, a girl he did not even know the name of. Now the room was vacant but on the pillow beside him laid a small note.

_I'm off to work. Food is in the fridge, feel free to have breakfast. Please make sure the door is shut after you leave. XX_

Harry groaned loudly and got up – only to wish he had remained seated. A sharp pang of pain shot through his head, seconds later only a dull throbbing lingered. He had definitely had worse, but hardly ever self-induced. He got dressed and left the building only to find that he had no idea where he was and how to get back.

His first cab drive later, Harry made his way through the Leaky Cauldron to the apothecary on Diagon Alley.

Harry stood in front of the counter feeling increasingly unwell. "Um, I need a potion for a headache and something to calm down my stomach."

The woman looked at his dishevelled form and grinned.

"Rough night, huh? I think in your case a hangover potion would be most convenient, no?" Hangover potion? Wizards were simply brilliant. Relieved Harry paid for the potion and downed it immediately after leaving the shop. Five minutes later his only reminder of the last night was growing tiredness.

Around noon a ministry owl brought a letter with his O.W.L. results. He had done better than expected.

Ancient Runes: D*

Astronomy: E

Care of Magical Creatures: A

Charms: O

Defense Against the Dark Arts: O

Herbology: E

History of Magic: P

Potions: O

Transfiguration: E

Harry danced a small jig when he realized that he had really managed to achieve an _Outstanding_ in Potions. Oh he wished he could rub this in Snape's face. Alas, the professor was, at least as far as the immediate future was concerned, not allowed to discover that his most hated potion student would continue to take part in his class.

His _Dreadful*_ in Ancient Runes was a pity but not really surprising.

That night in bed Harry reconsidered the recent events. Sure, his first time had neither been romantic in anyway nor with a girl he loved, hell not even with a girl he knew the name of. Nevertheless he could not bring himself to regret it. It had been amazing, a lust filled haze; only thinking about it, about that warm, tight feeling, made him hard again.

()

Harry was awoken by the sound of loud knocks against his window. His Hogwarts letter had arrived, informing him that he could take most of his chosen classes: Defence Against the Dark Arts, Potions, Herbology, Transfiguration and Charms.

That he did not qualify for the Ancient Runes N.E.W.T. class was no surprise. He wrote back asking Dumbledore if there was a way for him to continue Runes with his private tutor while at Hogwarts.

Later that day Harry made his way dutifully through the shops on Diagon Alley buying the necessary school supplies and robes.

While gathering his books at Flourish & Blotts he suddenly heard all too familiar voices that made him spin around. The Weasleys had just entered the shop. Harry slowly went over to them. He wanted to run towards them, talk to Ron, joke with the twins- but froze when he saw two other figures standing amidst the chaos of red hair. Hermione and Harry. Harry Potter the way he should look, green eyes hidden behind glasses, a shock of wild, dark hair obscuring the famous scar. It was so weird seeing himself – or his old self – amidst the people he considered a family, when the real him could not join.

The Weasleys seemed to have felt his stare, as Molly turned towards him, smiling fondly: "Are you looking for something dear? Can I help you?"

He now had the attention of everyone in their small circle, even golem Harry. Harry didn't know how his golem would react. Would it acknowledge him as its master in public? He had never given it any instruction for a situation like this.

_Don't wear your feelings on your face!_ He could hear his tutors voice loud and clear, chiding him just the other day. Gathering himself he arranged his face to an expressionless mask – displaying any feelings besides panic and shock were beyond him at the moment. "No, thank you, Madam."

He left the shop without buying any books. It pained him to treat Mrs. Weasley so cold and unfamiliar, but he couldn't allow himself to fail, not now. If he got close to them again they would discover his identity, and soon others would follow and then all his friends would be in danger again. A small, traitorous voice in the back of his mind whispered, that he was also not ready to give up this newfound freedom again, no matter whom he missed.

Back at home he sat down to prepare his letter for Dumbledore, golem Harry would vanish in two days. It was hard to return to his old handwriting. Since he had relearned writing in this body with his "new" hands under the merciless watch of his tutor, his writing style had changed from his unreadable scrabbles to a script that reminded him a little of Sirius'.

_Dear Professor Dumbledore, _

_After the revelations at the end of last year, I had many things to think about during summer. You know how much I love Hogwarts and being there, but I feel that, if I want to have a chance in the unavoidable confrontation, I have to learn more than Hogwarts could offer. I saw and understand that you and the professors at Hogwarts do not have time to spare to train me. That's why I'm going to take Sirius up on his last offer. He left me a letter with contacts; people who can and will help me train and gain knowledge. My first stop will be in France. I will probably stay in countries were 16 or younger is the age limitation for use of magic. I also do this, because I hope that if I am no longer close, my friends and the students in general will be safer again. Cedric died only because he attended the same school as I, many of my friends were injured at the Department of Mysteries, Sirius died. This is not something I am willing risk any longer, because in the end, as you told me, it can only be either him or me. _

_Please do not come looking for me. I will write you regularly; maybe we will even meet sometime during the year?_

_Harry_

_PS: I am well disguised. Sirius' friends don't know who the boy he sent to them really is. Please explain this to the Weasleys. _

It bothered Harry that he had no idea how his golem would act before leaving the Weasleys. Would he leave a letter? Just disappear? And the letter for Dumbledore… it felt childish, but on the other hand he really had no idea what else to say. He did not feel comfortable lying to his mentor, staying as close to the truth as possible without revealing himself made his conscience a little easier.

He delivered the letter to the owl-post-service, to be sent in two days at 11:20 pm, right after the golem would have vanished.

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><p>Good, bad, anything in-between? The review box is waiting for you. Yes you, right there. Just scroll down a bit.<p>

Next chapter Hogwarts awaits!


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Thank you for the lovely reviews! Loved reading them! This chapter is rather short, but I've got a lot going on at the moment (tests, tests and even more tests... I think my head is going to explode if I have to study much longer, if I never update again, you at least know why ;) )

This chapter, the sorting hat has to do its duty. Anybody wanna guess where Aries will end up? I will call the original Harry **Aries** from now on. Otherwise things would get too confusing. You'll see why in a minute.

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><p><span>Chapter 4<span>

September 1st Aries Sirius Black boarded the Hogwarts express, dressed in rich clothes, seen off by Adriana. He noticed some people shooting him odd looks, nobody knew him and he was obviously way too old to be a first year. He had to supress a smile. Some of the parents even seemed to recognise his "mother" but nobody dared to approach them. Adriana was obviously amused.

"Ah, I bet they just don't know what to do with me. Haven't heard of me in years and today I am here waving my teenage son goodbye. You will have to update me on Hogwarts' latest gossip during your winter holidays! I just love to cause a stir every once in a while."

Two kisses on his cheeks and light hug later he was alone, levitating his trunk onto the train... where he nearly choked on his own tongue. Right in front of him was he himself, as in Harry Potter, smiling at Ron while dragging Hermione into an empty compartment. Aries was more than a little alarmed. This was certainly not his golem. He had felt it when their link snapped the night it disintegrated. This new imposter obviously also didn't know who he was, as he hadn't even spared him a second glance. That was one good thing at least.

Aries settled down in a compartment of first years. He needed time to think before he was ready to meet his old classmates while pretending to never have seen them before. During his correspondence with Dumbledore the man never mentioned creating a golem, but it could only be Dumbledore, the headmaster was the only person who knew of his disappearance.

Oh he had been anything but happy, trying to get Harry to return. If he didn't have to jeopardize his new identity on the way, he probably would have followed Dumbledore's wishes after the second letter. He felt like a huge disappointment to the headmaster every time he read a new letter. But the man did not know what he was up to, he couldn't really judge from afar.

Aries decided to keep an eye on the imposter until they entered Hogwarts. If Dumbledore showed no sign of surprise upon his appearance then it was safe to assume the new Harry Potter was his doing on no danger to any of his friends.

A few hours and an extremely bothersome boat ride later Aries was standing amidst a group of flustered first years. According to McGonagall he was to be sorted last. He could only hope the hat would sort him a second time without causing trouble. But it couldn't tell what it saw inside the heads of the students anyway. Even if it refused to sort him he could make up some story, like that it told him he was too old… or some such rot. Oh god, he really had to stop thinking about this. It wouldn't help him now anyway. Finally after the last first year had been sorted and more and more students started to whisper, pointing at him, McGonagall called his name.

"Black, Aries."

He strode forth, holding his head high and shoulders square, trying to ignore the whispers around him.

He sat down on the unsteady stool and the professor put the old tattered hat on his head. This time, there was no conversation. As soon as McGonagall let go, the hat called out his house, loud and clear:

_SLYTHERIN!_

McGonagall took the hat back and Aries got up, walking towards the Slytherin table all the way fighting to keep his face impassive. He could not let his horror show, not when he had to live with these overly perceptive people for at least the next few months. He sat down next to the first years at the end of the table, stealing himself for the conversations he would for sure have to endure down in the Slytherin common room. Dumbledore announced their new Defence professor, a young man Aries had never before heard of and reminded them, like every year, to stay away from the forbidden forest.

Two fifth year prefects led the new students down to their common room. Aries in the meanwhile had come to the conclusion that the best course of action was to keep his hostile feelings to himself until he had had enough time to mull over this new situation.

The Slytherin common room looked exactly as dark and gloomy as it had during his second year. Even though he had already seen it, Aries pretended to look around in interest. Snape's welcome speech was surprisingly … welcoming. He talked about house pride, his expectation for all of them to perform to the best of their abilities in classes as well as extra-curricular activities and even told them that they were allowed to come to him with their problems.

He didn't spare Aries on glance and the boy in question sighed inwardly. Even in his new identity Snape would probably hate him, the grudge he held against Sirius was legendary.

After Snape had left he felt all eyes zoom in on him. He really wanted to leave for the dorm room, but if Slytherin was anything like he imagined it to be, than showing a weakness like this was the worst idea. He turned in the direction of Draco Malfoy and the other upper years, delicately raising an eyebrow, arms crossed. Draco smirked back. Obviously this was an acceptable approach.

"So," the blond Slytherin drawled, "you are definitely no firstie. A bit late to join the fun, don't you think?"

"Better late than never," Aries replied nonchalantly.

Draco seemed amused and offered his hand. "Draco Malfoy."

Promptly Aries felt reminded of the first time Draco had extended his hand, back when they were eleven at the Hogwarts express, only this time, things had to be handled differently. He knew more about wizarding customs now, knew that accepting Draco's hand was no promise of friendship, only a sign that he accepted Draco as an equal.

By refusing to shake his hand as a first year he had basically told the blond he thought the boy beneath himself. No wonder Draco had turned extremely hostile afterwards, it probably never even crossed his mind that somebody couldn't know what this simple gesture implied.

So this time, he shook Draco's hand. "Aries Black."

Draco introduced him to the rest of the sixth and some seventh years and invited him to sit down with them.

Theodore Nott, whom he had never talked to before, eyed him curiously: "I take it you are a relation to the House of Black? You certainly have the looks."

"Yes. From my father's side."

He felt Draco's attention increase immediately. "Who is your father? Are you from a side line? I didn't know any of them carried the name."

Aries had to try really hard to supress a smirk. This was just too good. "I don't think so either. My father was Sirius Black."

Now he again had all eyes on him.

"Sirius Black? Like the Sirius Black who broke out of Azkaban?"

"Didn't he die just this summer?"

"The one who betrayed the Potters?"

Aries decided to focus on Draco, who seemed to contemplate his next words carefully. "This would imply that you are the Black heir."

Aries only smiled and nodded. He could basically see Draco's mind working furiously.

"How come we have never heard of you? My mother is your father's cousin, she never mentioned he had son."

Aries decided to get it over with and offer them an explanation. If they didn't think he hid anything they had no reason to investigate. "My mother left the country when she was pregnant during the first war, she didn't feel it was save to raise a child here at the time. My father was sent to Azkaban when it ended and she didn't want me to grow up around people who blamed my father for betraying the parents of their saviour. Hence we have been living in different countries ever since, my mother is an insatiable traveller… but I felt like staying at one place while preparing for my N.E.W.T.s thus my attendance at Hogwarts."

Most of the Slytherins seemed satisfied with this explanation, only Draco and Blaise Zabini still looked wary, but before they could ask any more questions Daphne Greengrass decided to enter the conversation.

"The woman with you back at King's Cross, she's your mother?"

Adriana would be pleased with the interest the Slytherins were taking.

"Yes, she is."

Daphne seemed enthusiastic, like Hermione when she was talking about a new book. "That's amazing. I have of course heard so much about her. One time she hexed all the Gryffindor girls shampoo to die their hair green. Nobody knows how she got into their common room and it took the Gryffindors nearly two months to find the cause of their new hair colour."

Pansy Parkinson nodded furiously, obviously his "mother" was well known to the Slytherin girls.

"Who's your mother, Black?" one boys, a member of the Quiditch team, asked.

"Adriana Aaric."

Again Dracos head napped up and he looked at him incredulously. "You are related to the Lestanges as well?"

And there was one of his new family connections he would prefer not to be reminded of.

"Obviously," he replied icily. He had enough of this game of questions and answers. He wanted to be alone and think about how he should proceed. He hadn't changed his whole life to socialize with nosy Slytherins.

"I think I will retire for the night. It's been a long day for me."

The others murmured good night but nobody followed him. It was obvious that they wanted to discuss this new addition to their house in private.

In peace behind the closed curtains of his bed Aries decided to remain on friendly terms with the Slytherins for the time being. His new house probably meant he wouldn't be welcomed by the Order of Phoenix with open arms, no matter who his father was. Sirius Black after all, had at least been a Gryffindor to outweigh his heritage. He, on the other side, now was the Slytherin offspring of two openly dark families. As Harry he wouldn't have trusted Aries anymore than Draco. Just perfect.

During the feast he had made peace with the hat's decision. Honestly, what else could someone who lied about their whole identity in order to gain the upper hand on their enemy expect? He would just concentrate on his studies for the time being and try not to give his old friends even more reasons to distrust the new him.

()

Remaining on neutral standing with his former friends was more demanding than anticipated. Ron's hatred for everything Slytherin ran deeper than Aries had known. While they were waiting in front of the Defence classroom Ron and Draco had one of their usual squabbles when Ron suddenly decided to shift his attention to the latest member of the house of snakes.

"Ah and here is the newest Death Eater in training. Probably can't wait to step in your family's footsteps, can you? Just know that we will be watching you." With that, Ron turned around, dragging a slightly apologetic looking Hermione behind him. The Potter imposter was already inside.

Although he felt bad, Aries couldn't help the laugh that escaped him. Ron accusing him – him of all people – of wanting to be a Death Eater was just too much. And sadly his red face and the empty threat hadn't really helped matters. Still laughing he turned to look at Draco, he was probably expected to show a reaction to Ron's antics.

"Was he… was he serious?"

Draco smiled tightly. "I'm afraid so. That was Weasley, Potter's best friend and menace extraordinaire."

Aries chuckled. "I would just like to see him try to 'watch me'," he murmured more to himself, but Draco had obviously heard him as he was now laughing quietly as well.

The new Defence teacher, Professor Smith, turned out to be surprisingly capable, which was nice for the students but didn't ease Aries' worries in the least. Considering that their last capable teacher had been a Death Eater in disguise, he thought is wariness was well founded.

()

Before Aries realized it, the first week had gone by. His situation was weird. Yes, he was back at Hogwarts, but it just wasn't the same. His old friends regarded him with mistrust, while his old enemies accepted him in their midst.

Getting to know Malfoy from "the inside" was strange. He had always imagined Malfoy and his goons to sit around all day slandering muggles and muggleborns. In reality though, Malfoy saved most of his anti-muggle slurs for when Ron and the fake-Harry were in hearing range. With time Aries got the distinct feeling that Malfoy just wanted to provoke the Gryffindors and was far too amused by their scandalized reactions.

Of course this didn't change Malfoy's and most of the other pureblood's view on the issue. They used the term mudblood so naturally that Aries had to give up being appalled on behalf of all muggleborns within the first week.

They obviously neither liked nor accepted them, but that – surprisingly – didn't hinder them from accepting the muggleborn's skills. The evening after their first potions class Zabini praised Hermiones intelligence in passing – of course followed by some comment on her desire to rub it into everyone's face. Even though Aries would never say it out loud, Zabini's statement was not entirely wrong. He loved her dearly, but Hermione's bossiness and undeniable know-it-all attitude didn't sit well with everybody even in Gryffindor.

After one week in Slytherin he felt that the biggest difference between his old and new house was, that Gryffindors were more unassuming and carefree. In Slytherin even though most were on friendly terms with each other, everybody always fought for themselves. They were more ambitious and disciplined when it came to schooling and future goals. Favours were not freely given but traded. If you wanted someone to help you with your charms essay you had to be prepared to offer something in return. To allow oneself to get indebted without defining any rules concerning the payment was referred to as something totally Gryffindor, which in Slytherin translated to stupid and thoughtless.

Aries was still getting used to all the unspoken rules in his new house, but he didn't spend too much time with the others anyway. Although he now knew another side to them, he couldn't really bring himself to totally disregard their past or overlook their political views. Twice he had joined games of exploding snap as to not immediately declare himself as a total pariah, but most of his time he spent studying runes (by himself, Dumbledore didn't allow a private tutor as it was not fair to other students) and for his classes.

He had had two more run-ins with an overly aggressive Ron but tried to rein his temper in and not antagonize the redhead even more. He knew if he wanted Ron to look past his seemingly dark heritage, he would have to get to know him again and show him that he was not just another dark wizard. Sadly he couldn't allow himself to get close to Ron and Hermione as they would probably figure him out over time. Because of all this, Harry had decided to just keep his head down whenever Ron and Hermione where close by. If he wanted to join the Order of Phoenix at some point, he couldn't allow them to view him in a negative light.

Little did he know that already the next day would put a strain on his resolve. He and Malfoy left the Defence classroom right after the three Gryffindors. Both groups were headed for the Great Hall. Hermione was enthusiastically talking to Harry and Ron about her "Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare" telling them that she had taken up knitting clothes for the elves again, hiding them in the Gryffindor common room. Aries, who had only recently read about the houseelves origin really wanted to grab and talk some sense into her. Houseelves were a magical breed created to feel the happiest when working for 'their family'. They took joy and pride in their work. Telling them that everything that defined them was wrong was an insult to their race. How could someone as intelligent and well-read as Hermione not know that?

Malfoy looked solemn as well. "I take it you didn't get in contact with many of her sort when you were home schooled? I dread to think what would happen to our world if mudbloods and bloodtraitors stayed in power. So much ignorance should be a crime."

And at least with the last sentence Aries silently agreed.

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><p>Yes, Aries is in Slytherin, with all the other wannabe Dark Lords. Shocker. What do you think? I didn't bash Ron, did I? I think he would treat a Black like he treats a Malfoy, and he didn't like Malfoy from the beginning. Share your thoughts in a review!<p>

Next Chapter Dark Magic awaits us.


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